


Falcon's Flight

by alexin2501



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:07:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6507586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexin2501/pseuds/alexin2501
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Sebastian Vael was a more prominent member of the narrative in Dragon Age: Inquisition?  Rated for game-appropriate content in later chapters and characters will be added as revealed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falcon's Flight

Four years.

 

Four years since that blasted fool, Anders, blew up the Kirkwall chantry.  Four years to understand why he felt that was his only option.  Four years to understand how horrible his ultimatum was to Garrett, who had been through enough.  Four years to wish nothing more than to apologize for ever demanding that of someone he called a friend.

 

Four years for Sebastian Vael to realize the world refuses to be black and white.

 

The Free Marshes had been a mess since the events in Kirkwall.  Aveline was doing what she could, but it was the epicenter.  He regularly sent aid and envoys to try and bring the city to some equilibrium.  Starkhaven was fairly stable, but the large Chantry population was its own headache.  Many templars left without warning, others at least followed appropriate channels so they maintained their lyrium rations.  But between themselves and Ostwick, trade was well enough.  Sebastian trusted enough members of his court to oversee things when he went out on missives, usually to Kirkwall.  He regularly led the refugees back to his city.

 

Beyond Aveline, he had not heard a word from what once was his merry band of friends.

 

Through channels, he had heard Varric had gotten interrogated by a Seeker.  Probably to find Garrett, who went into hiding after everything.  Fenris and Isabela took off on her ship to the Maker knows where.  Merrill went back to the Dalish, yet apparently kept in contact with Aveline.  Carver, Garrett’s brother, had gone with the Wardens, and their duties took them far beyond his borders.

 

Now they were also dealing with the chaos of a rift appearing out of nowhere in the sky like some fever dream.

 

He was writing his monthly letter to Aveline when a Chantry sister came into his quarters.  He didn’t bother to lock it anymore; people were always demanding his time.  She couldn’t have been more than twenty, a twig of a girl.  She held out a letter, trying to regain her breath as she waited.  He took it calmly and nodded to her, a small smile in acknowledgement.  Her smile lit up her face as she curtsied and left.  She looked so much like Merrill it almost hurt.

 

Sebastian went to pop the wax seal, only stopping when he realized it was the templar crest.  He continued on and unfurled the parchment.  He quickly read the letter:

 

_ Your Highness, _

_ I am not sure you would remember me.  We met during the height of chaos in Kirkwall and acquaintances were hardly an option.  I was the Knight-Captain  _ _ to Meredith _ _.  I am currently writing you as I was told of your honorable rule and active diplomacy by my second-in-command, Rylen (who was a templar in your city).  We are currently reinstating the Inquisition at the behest of Divine Justinia’s final decree to Sister Nightingale and Seeker Pentaghast.  The rumors of our creation may not have reached you yet, but among our ranks is someone who can close the rifts that have sprouted up, hopefully including the one in the sky (and from the Trevelyan family in Ostwick).  Some are calling her the Herald of Andraste, but she  _ _ actually abhors the moniker and  _ _ trudges through like anyone else.  We currently have few allies and little supplies, as we are currently labelled as heretics by the Chantry.  This could not be farther from the truth, but rather we could not wait for a new Divine to be chosen before attempting to heal the land. _

_ I know you are dealing with much in your land and aiding in Kirkwall, but any favourable word of our cause would be much appreciated.  Any supplies sent would be compensated for as our funds allow. _

_ Respectfully, _

_ Cullen Stanton Rutherford _

_ Commander of the Inquisition _

 

Sebastian had heard a bit about this Inquisition, and about this supposed Herald.  He knew her somewhat, as he was one of her potential suitors.  Neither were interested and the families figured out other means to secure alliances, but she was quite a firebrand even in youth.  She had been sent to the Circle shortly after their interactions.

 

He stood up and walked to his closet.  Inside was his current armor.  Although much of it remained the same since Kirkwall, he had tweaked it over the years.  If he was honest, it was starting to look like a white version of Garrett’s champion armor in spots.  He had even added a fur mantle (although that was standard for a ruler to do such things to single themselves out on the field without crown or cape).  The Vael tartan now hung around his waist, longer than he use to wear to signal his ruling status as well as act as another layer of warmth.

 

The Andraste buckle had long since been replaced with a practical buckle.  Varric did make a valid point about the oddity of having the wife of the Maker’s head so close to one’s groin.

 

He rung for a runner as he started the process of putting on the armor.  As an archer, he was always lucky his armor was designed to put on himself and in a hurry.  He was putting on the his tartan already by the time the runner arrived.

 

“Call the Inner Council.  A new development has appeared regarding...everything.”


End file.
